Lisa Ludden
In Venice There Are Bridges
Sediment richly flawed by time
people feet pounding paths
loose gravel stuck in shoespieces, parts per million
drop green river reflect blue sky
buried over each otherA little boy leans, eyes peeled to the bottom
cork coin thorn hook
over the clay wallDaddy,
where are all the
fish?Gondolas, oil lamps
manufactured man woman child organic connect
spilt wine, lovers lipsVenice, a bowl of flower tops, floating and wilting
